


Black Ink And Warm Hearts

by MaxTheMemelord



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Gen, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jschlatt is Tubbo’s Father, Platonic Soulmates, Self-Harm, Sorry gamers these tags are a mess, Suicide Attempt, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxTheMemelord/pseuds/MaxTheMemelord
Summary: Tommy was taught about soulmates young. Everybody had at least one. It wasn’t always romantic. They were very hard to find. Because the only connection you really have with your soulmate, before you meet, are inky splodges that show up on your skin when your soulmate gets injured.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 86
Kudos: 566
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. The Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! So I know this is kinda short, but I promise the other chapters will be way longer than this, I just needed an intro aha

Tommy was taught about soulmates young. Everybody had at least one. It wasn’t always romantic. They were very hard to find. Because the only connection you really have with your soulmate, before you meet, are inky splodges that show up on your skin when your soulmate gets injured. 

In the back of his mind, Tommy felt bad for his soulmate having to wear the bruises he gets from roughhousing and exploring with his brothers and friends, but he pushes that aside, and runs back to whatever he wants to do. He’s only a kid at the time, after all. He’ll have plenty of time to apologise when he meets them.

When. Not ‘if’. When.

Cut to now, Tommy, at sixteen years old. You’d think he’d have matured more, but alas. All he learned in that time is how to swear in fights, rather than just fighting. Teenage angst and hormonal rage, older (very annoying, might he add) brothers, and access to the internet does wonders for the vocabulary of a teen.

The whole ‘soulmate’ thing hadn’t really crossed his mind in a while, as his soulmate never seemed to sport any injuries that Tommy noticed. Not that he was looking for them, anyway. He was perfectly fine without anybody, he was great, even!

(He stands in the mirror and turns and contorts himself looking for a sign that there’s somebody, anybody, out there that’s going to care about him one day.)

Sighing, he lays himself down in bed. Another day, another petty argument with his brothers, that had to be broken up by his father, another adventure to come tomorrow.

Waking up to the sound of your brothers arguing about who gets what for breakfast always served as Tommy’s alarm. It was yet to fail him, Tommy thought as he yawned and stretched, going through his morning routine drearily. Brush your teeth, comb your hair, un-comb it by running his hand through it because Tommy thinks his hair looks stupid anyway he does it, walk downstairs, have breakfast.

That’s when his morning had an interruption, a break from the routine.

Wilbur, dropping his toast onto the floor at the sight of Tommy. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Tommy tilted his head. “Wilbur, what’re you fussing about?”

Not trusting the words to come out right, Wilbur just raises his hand and points to Tommy’s face. 

Running back to his room, he swivelled and looked at the body length mirror he found a few years back.

How could he have missed it?

There was an awful black fist mark covering Tommy’s left eye, and black wrapping around his throat.

Somebody had hurt his soulmate.


	2. Keeping An Eye Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes out on a search.

Stewing alone in his thoughts, Tommy tossed and turned. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t know his soulmate yet, so there wasn’t any way he could actually, realistically help them.

It didn’t stop Tommy from feeling useless.

“What could have happened to my soulmate, that ended up looking like that?” Tommy murmured to himself, punctuating the last word, almost exclaiming it, hoping that someone, something, would answer him, as he dragged his hand across the marks on his own face, squinting his eyes at the mirror. Scrunching his eyebrows in thought, he let out a sigh and flopped onto his bed. 

Tommy alternated between closing his eyes and sighing and staring up at the ceiling, trying ever so desperately to brainstorm one of two things. One, what happened to his (hopefully soon to be beloved) soulmate, and two, how he could help without knowing them.

He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes again. His soulmate was hurting. They’d been hit (or punched) in the face, and there were deep hand marks around Tommy’s own throat, showing, quite obviously that somebody had choked his soulmate. There wasn’t much room for debate with the second injury, the thumbs on Tommy’s own throat were pretty obvious.

What would he do, and how would he do it?

Running his hands through his hair, he stood again, and glanced into the mirror again, meeting his own eyes. He had to find a way to help his soulmate. He’s got to be able to do something, right? There’s got to be something he can do.

Suddenly, it hits him.

(Not as hard as his soulmate was hit)

He should go out. Walk around, meet people, look, keep a desperate eye out for somebody sporting the same injuries as him. There would have to be somebody, right? Face and neck injuries are hard to miss, especially in the middle of summer, nobody’s gonna be wearing a big old sweater to cover it up. Even then, what would they do about the black eye?

The answer Tommy came to was that they’d do nothing.

Tommy was glad, he’d finally come up with a way to help. He stood, and practically ran out of his room, quickly to eat breakfast, and then spend however long it took looking for his soulmate.

Wilbur stopped him the second he entered the kitchen. 

“Tommy, I need you to answer me honestly.” He paused, making sure that Tommy was actually listening. Which was fair, Tommy was currently rummaging through chests to find something to eat on his way into town. “Tommy.” Wilbur said with more force. Tommy looked up and met Wilbur’s eyes. “Do you know your soulmate.” Tommy shook his head vigorously. “If I knew them do you think I’d let them be alone right now? I’m gonna go and, I’m gonna, I’m gonna find them!” Tommy finished his words with confidence. Wilbur sighed, and nodded. “Good luck, okay? Hope you find them, Tommy.” Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s hair playfully, and nodded, approving Tommy’s adventure.

Without another word, and bread stuffed in his mouth, Tommy ran out the door, tugging on his shoes as he stumbled through the doorway.

oO0Oo

Where to go? Where are there people? Tommy wondered to himself as he sprinted through the woods that surrounded the house he lived in. The park? The town? The markets? He decided on the markets first, as Tommy also kind of wanted to buy something with his pocket money. 

He was going to find his soulmate, he reasoned. And the markets have people! So it’s a win-win.

After wandering quickly, (don’t ask how Tommy managed to wander and do it quickly, it’s a talent that Tommy himself doesn’t even know how he mastered.) Tommy stumbled upon a stall that was selling… random things? Among that, there were a few discs, and a jukebox. Moving closer cautiously, he admired one with a purple center. 

The owner of the stall interrupted his thoughts with a sharp, and efficient, “That disk belonged to my soulmate. So did the other one, and the jukebox. I can’t look at them anymore. Just take them, okay?” Tommy looked up to meet this man’s eyes, and found them looking tired, and weary. He couldn’t help but notice the black line that traveled across the older man’s throat. Curious, now, Tommy looked at the man, properly for the first time. 

A white bandanna wrapped around the man’s dark brown hair, and his tan skin was sagging around his eyes, an expression of sorrow seeping from his pores.

Tommy looked away, and spoke. “Are ya sure, big man?” The man nodded, and sighed.

“My soulmate, well, one of the two, he was always reckless, and thought he could get away with whatever. He didn’t come home, and it’s been a month, and this hasn’t gone away.” The man sighed.

“I can’t bear to look at these things, just take them, okay?” Tommy, wordlessly obliged, taking the two discs and the jukebox.

“I’m sorry, dude.” Tommy spoke, with his back turned, barely audible over the chatter of the markets. 

“I know you are.”

oO0Oo

No luck at the markets, only a sad story and free stuff. Free stuff! Tommy tried to be happy about it, but hearing that stranger’s story really bummed him out.

The town was a bust, too. Most people were at the markets, and those who were just wandering around, none of them sported the injuries that Tommy was looking for.

His last hope would have to be the park, a big expanse of green, with several hills, and a big lake in the centre.

Sitting down at a bench on the top of a hill, Tommy sighed, and looked over the park. It seemed like the entire park was empty, minus the ducks that bobbed around happily in the pond. Tommy wondered if ducks had soulmates. I mean, how would he find out? It’s not like there was much scientific research on ducks and their soulmates.

Tommy groaned, realising he’d gotten sidetracked. He slammed his hand on the bench beside him, and from behind him he heard a quiet “Eep!”

Shooting up, he craned his neck around to meet the eyes of the person standing beside him.

Curly, warm brown locks covered the boy’s eyes, and he quickly swept them out of the way to make eye contact with Tommy. 

The moment Tommy looked the stranger in the eyes, Tommy smiled slightly, for some reason. He then paused, and furrowed his eyebrows. “You alright?” He speaks, trying to get her confidence into his tone.

“Ah! Yup! My bad, sorry, I just, I saw the, uh,” the stranger pauses, and gestured to Tommy’s eye. “Are they okay?”

Tommy sighed. “I wish. I don’t even, fucking, I don’t even know ‘em!” Tommy sighed, and out his face in his hands. “I don’t know them and they’re out there, hurting and stuff!” Tommy groaned, and felt the bench move slightly. He opened his eyes to find the stranger sitting next to him.

“I know I’m not your soulmate, but I wanna be your friend! I’m Tubbo!” The stranger- no, Tubbo, smiled and extended his hand to Tommy.

“I’m Tommy. Nice to meet ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go.


	3. These Boots Were Made For Stomping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Tubbo grow as friends, but they must soon part ways.

“It feels like we’ve known each other, like, forever, yaknow?” Tommy murmured, his eyes closed. Tubbo nodded and hummed in agreement.

Light conversation fills the air, topics are thrown around and changed, as the boys get to know one another.

“Do you have any siblings?” Tubbo enquires, “I’m youngest of three,” Tommy answered, tossing the question back at Tubbo. “You?” Tubbo pauses, and responds saying “I’m an only child.”

“What’s your favourite colour?” Tommy leans back as he speaks, closing his eyes. “Green! Like plants, and stuff! What’s yours?” Tommy shoots back without hesitation. “Red!”

Soon the conversation fades into nothingness. They sit there, on that bench, in comfortable silence, as the sun sets, casting warm light onto their relaxed faces.

Tubbo speaks, his tone light, and his hand shoots to his chin, stroking it, almost mockingly. “Hey, do ya think that ducks have soulmates?” Tommy shot up from his slouch and opened his eyes. “No way! I was literally just thinking about that!” Tubbo laughed, a genuine, warm laugh, and then he looked away, and checked a watch that he wore on his wrist. Tommy watched as Tubbo’s face dropped and sagged slightly.

“Hey Tubbo, what’s up?” Tubbo looked almost frightened as he snapped out of whatever trance he was in, glancing at Tommy and then back at the watch.

“Gosh, I’m sorry Tommy, but I’ve gotta go! I’ve got a curfew, and I’m about to be late if I don’t run!” Tubbo stands quickly as he speaks, and smiles sadly. “Do you wanna meet here tomorrow?” Tommy yells, as Tubbo walks off. Tubbo smiled and shot his hands in the air. Squinting, Tommy realises Tubbo’s given him the thumbs up.

“Hell yeah! Tommy made a friend, Tommy’s a real cool dude!” He sing-songs to himself as he wanders back home slowly. 

oO0Oo

By the time Tommy gets home, it’s long past dark, and Techno is making dinner. “Dad’s still at work?” Tommy enquires, and is met with a nod from Techno, as he stirs something in a bowl. “Give me a shout when dinner’s ready!” Tommy yells, as he races up the stairs and into his room, not even bothering to wait for a response.

Flopping on his bed, and letting out a sigh, Tommy allows himself to relax, even if he feels bad about it. His soulmate is still out there, hurting, and all he did was make a friend.

A good friend, at that, but it was a waste of time if it wasn’t helping his soulmate.

Speaking of, Tommy decides to look in the mirror again, as he gets ready to shower. He sees the marks on his throat and face have faded slightly, but it still makes his heart ache that his soulmate is still out there, hurting. Tommy begins walking down the hall to the bathroom, on the way he begins to get undressed, and he tosses his shirt into the laundry basket. 

His stomach dropped when he saw his torso in the bathroom mirror.

A boot print, against his rib cage.

Tommy feels a sob build in his throat, and he pulls a hand to his mouth. 

Then he sees another form almost immediately afterwards.

It felt like the world had stopped spinning. Boot prints appeared on his torso, and he ran to find somebody, anybody, who would listen to him.

Flinging open Wilbur’s door, tears in his eyes, Tommy invites himself in.

Wilbur sat inside, on his bed with his legs crossed, strumming at his guitar. Looking up wordlessly, he smiled slightly, until his eyes trailed downwards. Wilbur looked back up to meet Tommy’s teary eyes, and placed his guitar down, opening his arms for a hug.

Tommy practically ran into his brother’s arms. “They just, appeared, just then! They’re getting hurt, right now, and I can’t, I can’t do anything!” He yelled, clutching at Wilbur’s shirt like a lifeline, tears now flowing freely. “What do I do!?” He screamed and buried his face into Wilbur’s shoulder.

All Wilbur could do when Tommy was in this state was offer comfort, rubbing his back, whispering words of affirmation. 

Soon Tommy’s heartbroken sobs died down into whimpers and he released his hold on Wilbur, and looked up to his brother. “What do I do, how do I help?”

“I don’t think there’s much you can do, aside from hope.” Wilbur replied, fixing his beanie, and putting his guitar away properly. “Let’s go get dinner, okay, Techno’s been working hard.” The older brother speaks, ruffling the younger’s blond hair, opening his bedroom door, and leaving.

The light from the hallway hit Tommy’s red, sniffling face, and he stood, shakily, and wiped his tears. He needed to be strong, for his soulmate.

Walking back to the bathroom, to retrieve his shirt, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There were six boot prints, but nothing else.

Tommy put a hand to the black ink covering his chest and sighed, tracing some of the patterns. He’s gotta be able to find them soon, keep them safe. He puts his dirty shirt on, and doesn’t go back into the bathroom for the rest of the night.

oO0Oo

Eating dinner was awkward, and quiet, as per usual. The brothers never have much to talk about. They only ever really talk over dinner, when their dad is here to prompt conversation.

Since he wasn’t there, though, they sat and ate dinner in silence.

Techno glanced at Wilbur, and furrowed his eyebrows. Wilbur responded with tilting his head towards Tommy, who was currently busying himself by prodding his beef with a fork and looking down at his plate with a glum expression.

Tommy excused himself and left the table, going to his room, and hoping to sleep it off.

(He wishes he’d wake up next to his soulmate so he could make it better, but he’d never admit that to anybody.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys 😔


	4. His Point Of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh. He’s already drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to popular belief, I’m just writing this all at godspeed and publishing it the second I’m done with it, so I’m not posting pre-written chapters, my bad!

Peeling his bloody and bruised body from the floor, Tubbo shakily stood from where he was dropped last night. He couldn’t even bring himself to crawl back to bed, he just lay there and took it. 

When Tubbo’s dad gets drunk, there’s not much use arguing. You just sit through the argument.

He wiped tears from his eyes and shakily sobbed into his hand, not wanting to make too much noise.

Tubbo couldn’t pinpoint why it got violent, maybe it was because he hadn’t made dinner, and he instead lay in bed all day because he’d caught a cold, perhaps it was the reluctance to agree with his father saying slurs, perhaps it was a combination of both, but either way, he heard the door creak open and the pungent reek of alcohol was very obvious to him.

Back to the present, though, Tubbo had met his soulmate. He just needs to make sure that his soulmate doesn’t know about it. He doesn’t want to get his dad in trouble, and Tubbo knows he wouldn’t be able to lie to Tommy if he knew he was getting hurt. 

How would he explain it, to his only friend? His soulmate?

Tubbo was glad that he had some of his mother’s old makeup to cover up the bruising on his face and neck. But that stuff was starting to run out, and that scared him. 

Brushing on a generous amount over his swollen eye, Tubbo grimaced, and blended it in. Sealing it, he prayed to whatever gods were up there that it looked natural.

He bent over to place the makeup back into the back of the bathroom drawers, but let out a yelp and fell to his knees. The boots, right.

(Tubbo covered his face and screamed like a dying animal as his father brought his heavy black boot onto his chest, over and over again. Tears pooled down his face as his father smashed a beer bottle next to his head and stormed off.)

Somewhere deep down, Tubbo wishes his mum had taken Tubbo with him when she drove herself and her car off a bridge.

Tubbo doesn’t look back to see his dad passed out on the couch.

He leaves to meet with his friend.

oO0Oo

“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo picked up the energy in the last few bounds up to the bench, trying not to show the pain he was feeling in his facial expression.

Tommy looked up and smiled, a wide, toothy grin and he patted the bench next to him a few times.

Skipping and flopping onto the bench, Tubbo sighed.

“How ya doing, Big T?” Tommy turned to look at Tubbo, and as the silence grew, Tommy’s smile fell. “Tubbo?” 

Jerking his head up, and widening his eyes, Tubbo stammered out the words “Oh! Sorry! I just, I just zoned out for a second there! That’s, that on me! Yeah, I’m,” he paused, and met the concerned eyes of Tommy. “I’m good! How are you doing?” He deflects, and Tommy goes along with it for now, whether it was intentional or not.

“Yeah, I’m doing good, well, actually, I’m not, really, I don’t know, yeah.. uh, so like, have you met your soulmate?” Tommy turns to Tubbo and looks to him, in a rare moment of vulnerability.

“No, I haven’t. Have you?” Tommy sighed, somehow relieved? Not sure why he was relieved. 

(Maybe it’s because he was hoping Tubbo wouldn’t leave him.)

“Nope. And that’s, that’s kinda a problem, they keep getting hurt like this.” Tommy gestured to his eye, his neck, and then he took his shirt off without warning.

Tubbo isn’t fazed, and he looked at the boot marks that mirror the ones that are bruising underneath his long sleeved green button-up shirt, and he wants ever-so badly to tell him and be done with it. But he knows if he tells, his dad will get in trouble. So he keeps his mouth shut about it, and instead offers up words of support.

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry, that must be horrible.” Tubbo whispered, and looked up to meet Tommy’s eyes again. Tommy broke the eye contact, and began to speak as he put his shirt on again. “It’s just, like, I can’t help them and I feel shit for not being able to! Like, they’re my soulmate, yaknow! And I can’t help them!”

Tubbo sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” He sighed, and looked down at his own hands. “I really am.” 

Tommy stood, and looked down at the ducks. Tubbo didn’t stand, and hoped Tommy wouldn’t comment on it. It took all of Tubbo’s energy to not pass out on the way here.

“Hey, Tommy?” Tubbo opened his mouth to question the taller boy.

“Yeah, what’s up, Big T?” 

“If you met your soulmate, what would you do?” 

“Well, I’d fight whoever was hurting them, first off, and then I’d give them a big old hug, and protect them!” Tommy nodded, satisfied with his answer.

Tubbo chuckled nervously. He didn’t want his dad getting hurt! “Hey, Tommy, I’ve gotta run, okay?” Tubbo stood, and hoped Tommy didn’t notice how he winced.

“Same place, same time?” Tommy asked, and Tubbo nodded, waving and walking away.

Tubbo clutched his stomach as he ran home, trying to make it in time for curfew. The sunset was beautiful today, but inside of Tubbo, everything felt grey and cloudy. Gosh, what he’d do to tell Tommy about everything.

Tubbo was well and truly in love, but not romantically. He wanted to have Tommy hold him and tell him it was all going to be okay, have them stay best friends for ever and ever and then some more. But he couldn’t have that. They were soulmates, sure, but Tubbo didn’t want Tommy to hurt his dad. 

His dad was still sad about mum. It’s only been a few months since she did it, but it’s just, still an open wound for him. He didn’t want his dad to hurt more.

As Tubbo got home, he found his dad on the couch, watching T.V, his red tie undone, and his boots by the door. Thank god, Tubbo thought, letting out a sigh of relief. He attempted to creep into his room unnoticed, but his father caught the movement in the corner of his eye.

“Tubbo, come here. What are you trying to hide from?” His dad slurs his words together.

(Oh. He’s already drunk.)


	5. The Lie Is Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realisation.

Tommy waits patiently at the bench. Well, it was patient, for maybe the first half-hour? Then it became impatient waiting. Tubbo said he’d be here, so why wasn’t he?

oO0Oo

Meanwhile, Tubbo frantically searched through the bathroom for his (mother’s) makeup. Gosh, it should be here somewhere, right? Right? It’s not like.. oh.

Tubbo sees the shadow before he hears anything come from his father’s mouth, but he can see the room go dark as his father looms over him. “Looking for these, gay-boy?” His father spat. “Look at me!” He screamed at his child, and Tubbo slowly, and cautiously turned to look at his father.

What a sight.

A (too skinny) boy, a black eye and hand shaped bruises over his neck, crouched over, protecting himself from further injury.

Tubbo felt and heard the whooshing noise of something being thrown. The concealer shattered against the bathroom basin, shards of glass scattering around the tiles of the bathroom.

oO0Oo

Tommy had gotten sick of waiting, so he clenched his fists and stormed off, towards the town. He should be able to figure out where Tubbo lives, right? It shouldn’t be that hard, everybody would recognise the skittish clutz in the green button-up, right?

oO0Oo

“You some kind of f*ggot, boy?” Tubbo’s dad slammed his fist into the wall above Tubbo, and approached him. “Answer me!” Tubbo stammered over his words, crawling backwards, the glass imbedding itself into his palms. “I- no, I just, I’m.. I don’t, I just- you see, I didn’t, I didn’t want to, I didn’t…”

Tubbo yelped as his father grabbed him by the throat again, his tiny hands raising themselves to claw at his father’s, tears springing to his eyes. “Stop… please!” Tubbo spluttered out, and to his surprise, his dad dropped him.

Right onto the glass, but he dropped him nonetheless.

Hissing in pain, Tubbo stood. “Why do you hate me so much?” He asked his father, no defiance in his voice, just hurt.

“You’re trying so hard to be her.” He answered, his voice low and gravelly. “Your eyes, your skin, even the fucking makeup!” He slams his fist onto the wall and practically growls the next few words out. “She’s not coming back, she killed herself and it’s your fault!”

Tubbo recoiled at those words. It couldn’t be his fault. They didn’t even know it was suicide. “It could’ve just, it could’ve just been an accident! She loved us, she wouldn’t, leave us, like, yaknow, that..” his words died on his tongue when he saw the look in his father’s eyes.

He was still on the ground, and his dad saw red. So he brought his boot up and brought it down as hard as possible onto the boy’s leg.

A gut-wrenching scream echoed through the halls of the house that once used to be so full of life, and song, and joy.

“If you want to be like her so bad, kill yourself like she did.” He murmured, and shuffled through the bathroom drawers, grabbing a razor, and he even went through the trouble of disassembling it, before tossing it in Tubbo’s general direction.

Not another word was said as his father walked out the door.

oO0Oo

“Tubbo Schlatt? Like Jay’s son? Yeah, they live just down the way. Why’re you asking?”

Tommy responded with a clipped “Because Tubbo’s my friend.”

The shopkeeper let out a hearty laugh. “That boy hasn’t had a good friend in years. Best of luck to ya, kiddo!”

Tommy turned on his heel and ran towards Tubbo’s house, only stopping to glance at the black mark that spread over his leg, just below the knee, and the black splotches that appeared on his hands.

oO0Oo

Tubbo sat there in shock, unable to move, the only thing he had was a razor blade. He could hear the front door open and close, and then a few minutes later, he heard it get pounded on several times, before it was opened. Apparently his dad hadn’t locked the door.

Tommy frantically climbed the stairs. “Tubbo? Hope you’re here and I haven’t just broken into somebody else’s house!” He yelled out, hoping for a response.

Hearing Tommy, he slipped the blade into his pocket, and all he could muster in the way of voicing his location to his soulmate was “In here, Tommy.”

The ruse was up, he couldn’t hide it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sorry about that one gamers


	6. I Tripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy learns he can lift Tubbo

“Hey Tubbo, where have you-” The words died on Tommy’s tongue, as he saw his friend, lying on the floor, his leg twisted and broken, a black eye, bruising around his neck, and glass shards in his palms. Tubbo waved. “Hey Tommy!” as if he didn’t look half dead. 

A second scream echoed through the halls, this time it was Tommy screaming, and not out of pain, out of shock. His best friend was hurt. Badly hurt.

“Jesus, Tubbo! What, what happened!” Tommy exclaimed, as he grabbed Tubbo’s wrists, to inspect his palms. 

“Would you believe me if I said I tripped?”

oO0Oo

Tommy scooped Tubbo into his arms, being careful not to touch his leg, and away they went.

He noted how light Tubbo was.

“You’ve got some, you’ve got some mad, mad explaining to do Big T!” Tommy fussed, as he huffed and puffed his way through the forest to his house. “What even, how did, what!” He yelled, but he noticed how Tubbo tensed when his voice rose, so he tried to remember to keep it down, at least until Tubbo was in a state to explain.

“Hey, don’t you hate it when you go to eat chips, right, and they just like, like, the bag gets grease and chip dust onto your hand when you reach in?” Tubbo spoke airily, looking at the trees that they passed. “Yes, Tubbo, I do hate it, but that’s not exactly what I’m asking about. You gotta tell me what happened, bro.” 

Instead, Tubbo supplied “Bees are cool. We had some in our backyard a few years ago and I named them.”

If Tubbo wasn’t injured, and in shock, Tommy would be disappointed. (He supposed that having a broken leg plus head injuries gets you a free pass.)

Practically kicking the door down, Tommy announced his presence by shouting “Somebody help!” In his shaky, panicked voice.

Silence, for a few seconds, then he heard frantic scrambling from upstairs, a door slamming, and then Techno came stumbling down the stairs. “What..” His eyes look Tommy up and down, as well as Tubbo in his arms, “..happened?” He spoke, his voice low, and surprisingly almost emotionless.

A beat of quiet, then Tommy launched into a speech.

“Well Tubbo’s my friend and he didn’t show up to where we were supposed to meet so I was like ‘What the fuck!’ So I go and ask around and I find where he lives to like, check if he’s okay or yell at him for flaking or something, so I barge in and then he’s like, crippled on the bathroom floor and shit!”

Techno looked down to Tubbo. “What happened. Your story, not whatever he was saying.”

Tubbo shrugged and spoke meekly “Well, I was at home and I was,” he paused, took a breath, and continued, “tryingtocoverupabruiseandmydadtookthemakeupandsmasheditandbrokemyleg.”

There was silence, for a few moments, before Tommy rocketed off.

He placed Tubbo on the lounge, and began ranting and raving.

“Your DAD! Your fucking DAD did that you you! That’s fucking pathetic! Literally, how dare he! Who gave him the right, who gave him the fucking right to do that to-” Techno placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and pointed at Tubbo.

Tubbo was currently sobbing, curling in on himself.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, Tubbo, Big T, I’m sorry!” His face was red, and Tommy looked extremely upset with himself for making Tubbo cry. “Look, Techie, just, can you take care of him for a minute, just, I just,” Tommy scrambled upstairs without another word.

Tommy flopped onto his bed and groaned. Now he feels bad for upsetting his friend! 

Maybe he should shower. It’s been what, like, two days?

He wandered down to the bathroom, and as he took his shirt off, he looked at himself in the mirror. The black spots on his eye and neck, were just as prevalent. And… the spot on his leg. Wait a minute. 

Hold on just a second.

Oh.

OH.

Tommy got in the shower, and buried his head in his hands. How did he not notice? Is he really that stupid, that he didn’t notice the swelling on the eye that looks a bit too smooth, where the skin tone just didn’t match up? He was wearing makeup. 

Tubbo was hurt the whole time and he didn’t notice a thing.

His gut dropped as he stepped out of the shower and dried himself.

oO0Oo

Dinner was more awkward than normal. Tubbo wouldn’t eat anything because he felt bad for taking their food, Wilbur was trying to nurse him into eating something. Without knowing what was going on, the second Wilbur walked through the door to see Techno, nursing an injured child, he realised the situation was dire. So he jumped in to do first aid, and now Tubbo was bandaged on his hands, his neck, and his leg.

Technoblade, however, was silent, until he turned to Tommy, who was awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

“What, at least you found him before he like, died.”

Tubbo either didn’t hear, or was pretending not to hear, and Wilbur shot Techno a glare.

“Hey, Tommy,” Tubbo spoke up, poking at his vegetables, Tommy’s head perking up immediately, “Do you guys have a dad or a mum, or do you just, like, live as brothers?”

“Oh, yeah, we’ve got a dad, but he’s out a lot.” Tubbo looked guilty, and opened his mouth, “No, not like that Big T, he’s just got a good job! And we all have different mothers, that one is pretty obvious.”

Tubbo smiled, and nodded. “Thank you guys so much for your hospitality, but I really should, head back home.”

Tommy looked like he was going to explode, but Wilbur spoke before Tommy could. “I think it’d be better if you stayed with us, just for now. Just to make sure your leg heals right.” Tubbo was about to object, when Technoblade spoke up. “I’ll talk with your father about it, alright kid? Now get some rest.”

Both younger boys went upstairs, Tommy carrying Tubbo. “I’ve got a spare mattress somewhere, you take the bed. No buts, you’re going to bed now, okay?”

oO0Oo

After they were both settled, Tommy was out like a light. Tubbo, however kept fiddling with the razor he still had in his pocket.


	7. Watching It Burn From Afar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy tries to get Tubbo to un-forgive.

A new day, a new challenge. One would hope that challenge would present itself at least after people had gotten a decent amount of sleep, but alas.

6:14am, there was a pounding at the front door.

Tommy just groaned and rolled over, however Tubbo shot up, wide awake, and more importantly, afraid. Tubbo gripped one hand onto the bedsheets, and one hand on his shirt, until his knuckles went white.

(Oh god it’s dad he’s going to kill me oh god he’s going to hurt me oh god)

Rolling over, Tommy wearily opened his eyes, and quickly realised his friend was distressed, jumping to his side.

“Hey, Big T, what’s up, hey, c’mon now, hey, buddy, bro, pal,” Tommy panicked. He hadn’t really had to comfort anybody freaking out before, sure he’d dealt with sad and angry, but afraid? That’s way out of his expertise. Tommy thinks he never gets scared.

(But he is scared, of losing the things he cares about. So, so scared.)

Tommy stood, and looked around his room, for something, anything, that could be used as a distraction. Finally, his eyes locked on the jukebox and the discs. “Hey Tubbo! Why don’t we, listen to some banger tunes, eh?” Tommy looked desperate, trying to help when he clearly wasn’t able to.

Standing up and almost losing his balance and falling right back over again, Tommy scrambled over to (the man’s) his jukebox. “Hey, which one do you wanna listen to, Tubbo? Green one, or purple one?” He offered them both forward. “You don’t gotta speak buddy, just point, and I’ll play it for ya best bro!” 

With a shaking hand, Tubbo pointed to the green disc. Ah, of course. (Green’s his favourite colour, Tommy’s mind helpfully supplied)

“Right-o! In with the disc, let’s listen, okay?” Tommy flopped onto the bed next to Tubbo, and went to wrap Tubbo in a hug, but he paused, his hand hovering in the air. “This okay buddy?” A shy nod was all he needed before Tubbo was wrapped in a tight hug. Not tight, as in, make Tubbo’s ribs ache (again) hug, but rather a hug that made you feel safe.

There the boys stayed, until the disc was done.

After silence filled the room for a few minutes, Tubbo spoke. His voice was hoarse, and small. Like he could barely fill his own shoes, let alone the air. 

“Thanks, Tommy. Sorry about that.. I don’t know what.. I don’t know what happened.”

Wordlessly, Tommy just playfully slapped Tubbo on the back. Even though Tommy is almost completely oblivious, he picked up on Tubbo’s flinch. He just chose not to mention it. “Hey man, it’s totally okay! Always here for my soulmate! Now let’s get us some breakfast!” Tommy scooped Tubbo up into his arms and they went downstairs.

(He’d kill the man that made this sweet, kind boy afraid like this.)

oO0Oo

Breakfast was mildly uneventful, minus Techno coming downstairs briefly to ask where Tubbo lived.

After some coaxing, he let Techno know the address, which the latter quickly jotted down on his hand, before leaving wordlessly.

oO0Oo

“Hey, Tubbo, how mad would you be if I went and burned your dad’s house down?” Techno posed the question, oh-so-gently over dinner that night. Wilbur facepalmed at the lack of tact that Techno possessed, so he picked up the conversation from there, while Tommy calmed the spluttering Tubbo.

Wilbur coughed into his closed fist and spoke as calmly as he could muster. “What my dearest brother meant to say, was we want to confront your father, minus the law enforcement, I’m assuming you don’t want to get him in trouble?” 

Tubbo frantically nodded. “Yeah, I just, I don’t want him more upset than normal, I’d feel bad, it’s not like he deserves legal trouble for a little slip up, I forgive him.”

Wilbur shot a glare to Tommy, as if to convey the message ‘Don’t blow up.’

Alas, that was lost on the blond. “A little slip up? What, like he slipped up six times when he stomped on your ribs? A little slip up when he choked you out and punched you! A little slip up where he broke your fucking leg!” 

Tubbo just looked down at his dinner, and Tommy sat himself down, not quite realising that he’d stood up in the first place. He uncurled his fists, and deflated.

“Sorry Tubbo, it’s just, he hurt you. Real bad.” Tubbo nodded.

“I know he did, but he’s still my dad. And I still forgive him, but I mean, I don’t exactly want to go back, you feel me?” This time, it was Tommy nodding, but he kept his mouth shut.

There was silence, for a few moments.

“What if we all just went back, to gather your things? All four of us. He wouldn’t hurt you in front of witnesses, right? And he wouldn’t be able to take all of us.” Wilbur spoke, drifting off, planning the visit like it was a battle.

(It may as well be)

“Okay, so long as we don’t hurt him, okay?” Tubbo bargained, almost pleaded.

“We won’t hurt him unless he swings first.” Techno finishes, and stands up, clearing the plates from the table, and effectively closing the topic, it wasn’t up for debate.

Tubbo sighed, and looked to Tommy. “He was never this bad when mum was around.” Tommy turned to him and just made eye contact, trying his best to be quiet, and a good listener for his soulmate. “She drove herself off a bridge a few months ago. We don’t even know why. Then he started drinking more, and I had to hide photos from him, because he set most of them on fire.”

“Is that something you want to get back? Photos of your mother?” Tubbo nodded, and smiled, slightly, ever so slightly, being glad he was understood.

(It felt like the first time in months somebody actually understood him)

Soon enough, the plan was in motion, and the four of them set out into the forest, Wilbur carrying Tubbo, and Techno wielding a knife strapped to his thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah me too 😔


	8. Sharp Words And Sharper Blades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The magic of teenage angst mixed with not-so-great parenting will do wonders for a kid’s mental health.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for the start of a suicide attempt

“So, we’re all clear on the plan?” Wilbur questioned the group as they walked, he was met with nods, and, In Tubbo’s case, a concerned glance.

“You don’t have to do this, it’s alright-”

Tommy cut him off with a very quick and sharp, “Tubbo, I love ya man, but shut up.” Tubbo mimed zipping his lips closed, and he busied himself fiddling with his hands.

(He felt so useless, can’t even stand up to his own dad, he can’t even walk, he has to get carried by these people. He doesn’t deserve their kindness.)

Moonlight did absolutely nothing to aid the group on their way down the twists and turns of these streets, but Tubbo knew them like the back of his hand.

(At least he was good for something.)

Finally, the four boys arrived. The house was small, but it felt like it looked over them, taunting the group. Wilbur coughed, and Techno knocked, before Tommy swiftly disappeared behind the house.

They could hear stumbling from the inside of the house, and then, finally, after the sound of a clicking lock, the door creaked open, to reveal the disheveled man that was Tubbo’s father, Jay Schlatt. 

First fury danced across his face dangerously, then it was as if he put on a mask, because he smiled kindly at Wilbur and Techno. “What brings you to my neck of the woods, boys? Here to deliver back my renegade son, Tubbo?” He spat out the name, and glared down at the smaller boy. 

“No, actually!” Wilbur smiled, and then dropped it, favouring a glare. If looks could kill, Schlatt would be dead where he stood. Or, more accurately, swayed. He was pretty obviously intoxicated.

“Look, just give me my boy, and stop meddling! He cares about me, doesn’t he?” The smile that was stretched painfully across his face, matched with the menacing look he gave to Tubbo was not a pretty sight. Tubbo, however, seemed to not be phased. Perhaps it was the fact he felt unafraid with company, perhaps it was the fact that Techno had a knife. It could be either of the two, but the words that left Tubbo’s mouth shocked everybody who was there to hear it.

“I do care about you, but you’ve hurt me and I don’t want to see you right now. I just, I just want my things, okay?” Tubbo wrung his hands together nervously.

“What is WRONG with you, boy! Disrespecting me, choosing somebody else over me, you’re a filthy fucking traitor!” Schlatt fumed, leaning forward, attempting to grab Tubbo, but was easily parried by Wilbur sidestepping, and Techno pulling out his knife, and pointing it at Schlatt’s throat.

“I’m gonna need you to step back, Mr High-And-Mighty, and realise the position you’re in.” Techno growled out those words, and pointed the knife a bit closer for emphasis. 

Wilbur took a step forward again, and gestured by nodding his head that Techno should lower the knife. He obliged, however reluctantly.

Schlatt tightened his tie, and looked at the group again, clearing his throat. “I’m not letting you grab your things. You need to leave, and take my advice, okay?” He loomed forward, and Tubbo’s eyes widened. “Do what I told you to do or so help me, I’ll do it myself.” 

Wilbur took a step back, again, and protectively wrapped his arms around Tubbo, who was shaking in his arms. “We’re going home. Techno, do what you need to do.” He holds Tubbo tighter, anticipating the struggle.

“What do you mean? Don’t hurt him, he doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve it!” Wilbur just hummed, and started running, back down the street, and once they were safe, Tubbo sobbed. “Don’t hurt him!”

“Hey, shh, we aren’t going to. We just need Techno to stall, so Tommy can finish grabbing your things. That’s why we came, remember? And if Schlatt attacks, well, Techno can defend himself.” 

oO0Oo

Both of them kept heading on their way home, not even stopping once. It was quiet, minus the sound of the wind rustling the trees slightly.

The silence was broken by Wilbur, “Hey, what did he mean when he said you needed to take his advice?” Tubbo’s heart started pounding. What should he say? What is there to say?

(His own dad wants him dead. Tubbo wants himself to be dead, too.)

Instead, he spoke. “Ah, nothing, he just wants me to man up, and stuff.”

Wilbur nodded, accepting the answer, even though Wilbur could see the blatant lie. 

oO0Oo

Finally, they arrived home.

(Home, what a silly concept. It wasn’t his house, and it never would be. Tubbo didn’t belong anywhere. Not even his dad wanted him. His mum didn’t want him either. That must be why she,)

Tubbo rubbed his eyes, and yawned. “Thank you so much, Wilbur. You’re a really good dude. Helping me out like that.”

Wilbur laughed slightly, and Tubbo could feel the vibrations of it coming from his chest.

(He wanted to curl into the warmth and the love. But he didn’t deserve it.)

“I don’t know about me being a good guy, Tubbo. But thanks anyway.” There was a pause. “Do you want me to put you in bed?” 

“Yes, please.”

oO0Oo

After he was sure Wilbur was gone, he crawled out of bed, and used it to prop himself up. Hopping through the house as quietly as he could manage, he ended up in the bathroom. As quiet as possible, he closed the door and sat himself down on the bathroom sink. Out of the pocket came that sharp and shiny bit of metal.

He wasn’t going to make a mess, after all. He was already annoying enough.

God, he was so annoying. He deserved it. His parents didn’t love him. He doesn’t love him.

Did he really want to do this?

Maybe it would make his dad proud of him. He could do one thing right.

Shakily, he put the blade close to his wrist. All he had to do was-

(He wonders who will find his body.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah shit, here we go again


	9. The Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy’s never ran faster in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a suicide attempt

Tommy could hear shouting from downstairs, and he hurried up shoving Tubbo’s clothes, and personal belongings into as many bags as he could. Photos were already in there, that was the first thing Tommy sought out to find.

Tubbo’s mother looked like a kind woman. She had straight long brown hair, and the most sparkling blue eyes. There was a photo Tommy had to stop and look at. It was taken as a shaky selfie, by Tubbo’s father, Jay, or whatever his name was. Close to him, was Tubbo’s mum, holding a little baby Tubbo to her chest.

Everybody looked so happy.

(How did it go so wrong?)

Enough of that, he put the photos in a bag, and then filled the rest of the bag with stuffed animals and clothes. He took the pillow, and some simple picture books.

Funny, Tubbo didn’t have many long books, they were all short, and most had pictures. The words were super spaced out, too.

Tommy turned on his heel and prepared to climb out the window when he heard somebody running close to the door. 

Stumbling through the door, Techo, disheveled and disturbed. “He started fighting me so I stabbed him in the foot, and he had a fucking heart attack and he’s dead!”

The boys froze, and Tommy wasn’t sure if he should feel glad or not. “Is that, is that a good thing, Techie?” A sharp nod. 

“He said he’d kill me, Tommy, so I said I’d stab him, then he started going on about smelling toast and he just,” he paused to take a shaky breath. “collapsed. Good riddance.”

So there they stood, in a dead man’s house, rejoicing that Tubbo wouldn’t get hurt anymore. 

“Is there anything else we need, Tommy? You got photos, and clothes, and all that stuff?” Tommy nodded, overjoyed. 

“Alright, let’s get out of here!” Tommy shouted, reaching down for a bag at his feet.

Then he saw it. A small, inky, horizontal line, drawing itself into his wrist.

“Oh. Oh no. Shit, shit, fuck! We gotta go. Techno, let’s go. Right now.” Technoblade noticed Tommy’s wrist too, and nodded. So off they ran, into the night.

oO0Oo

Line, after line, after line appeared. Jesus Christ, Tommy had to run faster, faster. He can’t let Tubbo do this to himself. Even if it won’t kill Tubbo, he shouldn’t be doing it.

Well, it probably wasn’t going to kill him, until he saw the long vertical line drawing itself across his left forearm, then a matching one on his right.

(Shit, oh my god. He’s going to die. Oh my god it’s my fault, I wasn’t there to protect him.)

Tommy dropped the bags, and began to run as fast as he possibly could. Techno picked them up when he saw them, and he kept pace. He knew Tommy could handle a small mental health crisis. If only he knew about the recent developments, he’d be running too.

(Finally! The house, shit, you gotta run. Oh my god, run!)

The front door had light pooling out from underneath it. That meant Wilbur was still awake. 

Tommy had never run so fast, and he never wanted an excuse to run that fast again.

“Wilbur! Help! Shit! Get first aid things!” He screams, as he kicks open the door.

“Is Techno hurt? What happened, Tommy! Talk to me here.” Wilbur tries to calm the teen down, but he’s already darted upstairs. “Tommy!” He yells, and follows after him. Not to his bedroom, but to the bathroom?

(Oh shit.)

Tubbo was unconscious in the bathtub, the small boy a sickly, deathly pale. Blood stained his green shirt, from his violently bleeding arms. 

Blood spewed and dribbled down his arms, and Tommy was in shock. What do you do when your soulmate is bleeding out in the bathtub and it might be too late?

“I said get first aid stuff!” Tommy yelled through his tears. 

Tommy pressed a towel against one arm, and his own hand over the other. “Help!” He begged. Who was he calling for? Techno? Wilbur? His dad?

(Tubbo.)

“Please don’t leave me, please, oh my god. Please don’t leave me Tubbo, Big T, come on.” Wilbur pulled the boy away, and quickly busied himself trying to stop the bleeding.

Blood was on his hands. Tubbo’s blood was on his hands. Under his fingernails, on his shirt. 

All Tommy could do was cry and hope that they both got through this.

oO0Oo

Soon enough, Techno got home, and he noticed the front door was open. How peculiar. He closed the door behind him, and locked it. 

“Are you guys alright up there?” He could hear something. Crying?

Techno rushed upstairs, to see Tommy holding himself, quivering in the doorway of the bathroom. He could smell blood. He would never mistake that metallic smell.

Gently nudging Tommy away, he sees the mess that is the bathtub. Wilbur, performing emergency first aid, and Tubbo passed out, with white bandages staining themselves red wrapped around his arms.

“Is he going to be okay?” Tommy dares to ask.

Wilbur sighed. “I don’t know.”


	10. Of Course It’s Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third time’s the charm.

The first time Tubbo woke up was a day after his attempt at taking his own life. He didn’t even remember it, at first, until he shifted in the bed he was in.

(Tommy’s bed. Of course it was Tommy’s bed.)

All he could do was sob, a broken sob. Why’d he have to wake up?

(He didn’t want to wake up ever again.)

He lacked the energy to do much else, so he lay there, and stared at Tommy’s jukebox, out of reach, but in view. God, music would be nice right now. But he doesn’t move. He just lies there, tears falling messily down his cheeks, as he drifts back into his unconsciousness.

oO0Oo

The second time he woke up, he could feel somebody’s hand in his. 

(Tommy’s hand. Of course it was Tommy’s.)

His eyes opened slowly, wearily, and Tommy noticed immediately. “Shit! Tubbo! Oh my god never do that again I was so fucking scared!” All Tubbo could do was cry.

Tubbo parts his chapped, dry lips and speaks, with his croaky, out of use voice. “I didn’t want to wake up.” 

The grip on Tubbo’s hand tightened. “Sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry Tubbo.”

“No, I’m s,” he paused to breathe. God, it hurt. 

(Why was he still breathing why was he still breathing it should be over)

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I should’ve done better.”

And then he’s gone, back in his land of dreams.

oO0Oo

Third time’s the charm, people say. When Tubbo woke up for the third time, he was properly awake. His hoarse voice did him no favours, trying to call out for somebody, anybody. 

He thought nobody could hear him, when he felt the bed beside him shift. Tommy was lying next to him.

(Of course it was Tommy. He wouldn’t want it to be anybody else.) 

“Hey Tubbo. You feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

Tommy nodded. “That’s fair, that’s fair. Do you want,” he paused, “do ya want something to eat?” 

Sucking a breath through his gritted teeth, Tubbo nodded. “That would be nice.” Tommy stood, and tucked the blankets in around Tubbo. “Keep my spot warm, okay? I’m coming back with tea. And a sandwich. I’m not allowed to use the stove.” Tommy waved, as he shot out the door.

From the hallway, Tubbo could hear Tommy scrambling down the stairs.

A shy smile stretched its way across his face. Of course Tommy would do that, running at a fast pace to take care of the person he cares about.

Woah, that’s a weird thought. Tubbo is cared about.

Tears form in his eyes again. God, this is what it felt like to be loved

oO0Oo

Recovery wasn’t easy. Tubbo was scared. So was Tommy. They didn’t talk about that night unless they had to. They just kept moving forward.

When Tubbo was too tired to walk any further, Tommy would carry him. And when Tommy got injured protecting his cause, Tubbo would be there to patch him up.

The black ink on Tommy’s arms faded.

They never came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end of me projecting onto my hyperfixations! Tune in next time (whenever that may be), and have a lovely day!

**Author's Note:**

> So, how are we feeling?


End file.
